


Fun 'n' Games

by Inell



Series: Teeny Fic Challenge [27]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, FBI Agent Rafael McCall, FBI Agent Trainee Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Teacher-Student Relationship, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9926000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Quantico is more cut throat than the Hellmouth of Beacon Hills. Fortunately, Stiles has somewhere to escape from the madness.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunapiero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunapiero/gifts).



> lunapiero said: you BLESSED you!!! thank you and yes, please, rafe/stiles!!! <3333333333 :)
> 
> I had fun writing this ship, so I hope you enjoy it! Teeny Fic #27
> 
> Welcome to the jungle  
> It gets worse here everyday  
> Ya learn ta live like an animal  
> In the jungle where we play  
> If you got a hunger for what you see  
> You'll take it eventually  
> You can have anything you want  
> But you better not take it from me
> 
> Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N’ Roses

**[](http://lunapiero.tumblr.com/) **

“You look like hell.” Rafe steps aside so Stiles can enter the apartment he’s renting on base. Stiles hasn’t questioned why he accepted a temporary reassignment to the training academy because it’s probably better if he doesn’t confirm his suspicions.

“Nice to see you, too. Charming as always, I see.” Stiles rolls his eyes and drags his fingers through his hair, sniffing the air and determining that it’s some kind of pasta and alfredo sauce cooking. “I told my nosy classmates that I was grabbing food. Guess I wasn’t lying. For once.”

“If I was charming, you’d think I was sick,” Rafe points out, giving Stiles a look when he turns to deny it. “

“True,” Stiles reluctantly admits, falling onto Rafe’s sofa and sighing because it’s more comfortable than anything in his dorm. “Is it true they make our dorm rooms so uncomfortable in order to weed through the weak?”

“Of course it’s true. Just wait until you start case exercises.” His smile is absolutely evil, and Stiles flips him off, which just makes him laugh. “I’m disappointed, Stiles. You’ve only been here two weeks, and you’re already whining?”

“I’m not whining. I just didn’t expect everyone to be so damn bloodthirsty.” Stiles puts his feet on the table, smirking when Rafe arches his brow. “It’s like we’re all enemies and there’s no concept of teamwork at all.”

“Teamwork will come eventually,” he says, walking over and shoving Stiles’ feet off the coffee table. “Right now, you’re all analyzing and determining weaknesses. It’s a competitive program, kid. I warned you about that when you called me about GWU.”

“I know, and I’m handling it fine. I just get annoyed with all the back biting and fakeness.” He shrugs. “I’m luckier than most of them, though, since I can escape here for a couple of hours for a reality check.”

“How’s your PFT prep going?” Rafe sits down beside him, closer than a parent should sit next to their kid’s best friend. Stiles shifts a little close, liking the warmth of Rafe’s leg pressed against his.

“It’s going. Sit ups suck. Push-ups kill my arms. Sprint is a breeze. I can handle the mile easily enough. I’m good at running away,” Stiles says, grinning when Rafe shakes his head.

“You need to work on the sit ups and push-ups. You have to get all your points or it won’t matter how good an agent you’ll be,” he warns. “People blow off the PFT and end up kicked out of the whole program for not passing it.”

“I’m gonna pass it, Rafe. I just don’t have to actually _enjoy_ it all.” Stiles stretches and yawns. “It’s a lot of hard work and mentally exhausting, but I love it. I’m looking forward to not being a NAT, though. One of the instructors, Agent Reeves? She’s been talking to me about intelligence, but I think I prefer to focus on field work.”

“Don’t let Addison Reeves get her claws into you.” Rafe huffs. “She tries to steal all the bright ones for intelligence. A successful team has to have agents that are competent and also good at intelligence, and that’s what you want.”

“I can play hard to get,” Stiles promises, snickering when Rafe gives him a dirty look. “What? I can! I might not have with you, but it’s totally possible.”

“You’re so impertinent,” Rafe mutters, pushing himself to his feet. “Are you hungry?”

“Of course I’m hungry. I had to run five miles today, and I also had to deal with two classes taught by total hard asses.” Stiles rolls his head to watch one of those hard asses walk into the kitchen. “You could try being nicer. It won’t kill you.”

“I _am_ being nicer.” Rafe’s smile is sharp and sexy. “Behavioral analysis is an important class to learn, and I’m not going to tolerate a bunch of wiseass disruptions in my class.”

“Aren’t you proud that I’m not the wiseass disruption for once?” Stiles bats his eyelashes and simpers. “You should reward me for being so good in class, in fact.”

“No rewards until _after_ class finishes. It’s already an ethical violation that I’m teaching someone I’ve been casually fucking for the past two years,” he points out. “We agreed no sex until I’m not longer in charge of your advancement in the program.”

“Casual, huh?” Stiles watches Rafe’s shoulder tense, and he decides to let it go. This time. That undefinable thing works for him anyway. It means he doesn’t lie when he tells Scott and Lydia that he’s single but fucking around, and it also means he doesn’t have to have an awkward talk with Scott about the fact he’s banging his deadbeat dad. Well, formerly deadbeat but still no shining example of paternal pride even if he’s been trying the last few years. With a shake of his head, he grins. “Glad there’s only two more weeks of class then. I’m getting tired of just having my right hand and dirty thoughts.”

“It must remind you a lot of high school,” Rafe says, relaxing now that Stiles has let the subject change. The class is obviously paying off since Stiles is totally analyzing behavior now, not that Rafe is nearly as elusive as he seems to think. Maybe to other people, but Stiles has known him way too long.

“Real funny, tough guy,” he says, rolling his head back and looking at the ceiling. “Seriously, does it get any easier?”

“No, it never gets easier. Not life, not work, and definitely not the BFTC. You need to consider all your classmates as potential enemies. Hunters or demons, whichever works in your supernaturally inclined history. Trust no one, but learn how to make them _all_ think you trust only them.” Rafe gives him a serious look. “Find four people you can tolerate. Good in different areas, but not quite as strong as you are. Downplay your own skills just enough to fit with them without obviously being better, and keep with that group through to the end. You’ll help them achieve success without them feeling like you’re carrying them, and it’ll gain you loyalty from several people that could be beneficial to your future.”

“You’re trying to scare me, but it’s just making you sound sexy and evil,” Stiles points out, flashing a wicked smile. “Evil in a good way, obviously.”

“Sexy evil?” Rafe laughs, draining the pasta, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his biceps, and his tie discarded earlier. Stiles can’t help but stare because he really is hot.

“It’s a thing. Shut up, old timer. Kids these days are into it.” Stiles turns on the sofa so he’s on his knees, looking over the back of it and watching Rafe prepare dinner. “So I’ve basically been thrown into a non-supernatural Hellmouth and it’s a take no prisoners attitude I’ve got to develop?”

“I have no idea what a Hellmouth is, but it is a form of hell, so I’d say that’s appropriate.” Rafe stirs the sauce before pouring it onto the pasta. “You’ll be fine. If anything, you’ll probably enjoy all the mind games and subterfuge that takes place during your training.”

“How do you know all this? They didn’t even have the same program back when you went through the academy,” Stiles points out. “They said this program’s only been in place since 2015.”

“It might have been a different curriculum, but it was the same politics and thirst to succeed and bullshit that happens now.” Rafe gets two plates out of the cabinet and shoots him a look. “Are you planning to get off your lazy ass to get food or do you really expect me to wait on you?”

“What if I promise a really big tip?” Stiles smiles slyly. “I mean, some people don’t think blowjobs are sex, so we could blur those restrictions of yours just a little.”

“You can play mind games with your classmates, Stiles. _Not_ with me.” Rafe shakes his head. “You take what you want from them, but you’d better not try to take it from me.”

“Is that a challenge or a warning?” Stiles asks, rolling off the sofa and going to the kitchen to get food.

Rafe reaches out and pulls him close, kissing him thoroughly with so much passion that Stiles feels his toes start to curl. When he pulls back, Rafe just smirks. “Both. Now eat your dinner before you have to run back to your dorm.”


End file.
